By J. Douglas Stevens
Staff Columnist
Ethernet. DSL. Faster connections and fewer pop-ups. Scour the Internet with the click of a mouse. Quicker searches with more results.
As the Information Age progresses, I can’t help but think that we have too much of a good thing. Even now as I type, I have access to countless online libraries. But do I take advantage? No. I briefly check my buddy list and disconnect. But that’s beside the point.
With an overabundance of information floating in cyberspace, it seems that all things written have become obsolete. Excess. The moment we disregard the concept of moderation in favor of inundation, value is lost.
Before the printing press, when parchment, papyrus and animal skin carried text, the written word was respected, even revered. To pen a piece of literature was to create a great work and to possess any great work was something special. And today? Is nothing sacred?
Last April I found a copy of Plato’s “The Republic” resting on a pile of garbage that had erupted from an overflowing trash can. Someone had hastily moved out of their dorm and deemed Plato’s thoughts useless, tossing the book aside. He or she probably thought, “I can reference the text online.”
I find it interesting, and somewhat paradoxical, that in such an age as this, we still rely on the wisdom of dead poets. If those who lived before us thought a particular piece of literature was significant, then it must be worthwhile. We take the writings of ancient philosophers, prophets, poets and novelists and draw parallels, however obtuse, to our own society.
Although the historical value of studying these texts is immeasurable, I must pose one question: Is canon dead? Are there no more quintessential works to be written and earn the title of Classic Literature? Would the works of Arthur Miller, John Steinbeck and Mark Twain be part of today’s curricula if the original text had been submitted to an electronic publishing company? If the apostle Paul posted his writings on eSermons.com would they still hold the same spiritual and historical significance?
I know these examples are far-fetched and ridiculous, but my message is this: we are up to our earlobes in contemporary literature that could be immensely significant, but with our itchy clicking fingers and waning attention spans, we just might miss out.
What if you couldn’t download the latest from your favorite musical artist? What if music wasn’t recordable at all? Can you imagine waiting for a current translation of newly discovered scrolls written by Tupac Shakur? What if the late rap star’s passionate lyrics were held in such high regard that every high school in the nation had “The Complete Tupac” as required reading?
In case you were unaware, such a culture does exist. There is a group of people who consider such poetry canon, and search each verse for transcending truth.
This semester I’m taking a composition course, and I am privileged enough to read the work of my classmates, most of which is absolutely brilliant. While hearing a particular piece being read aloud it struck me: on this very campus, at this very moment genius is brewing.
But because of the constant deluge of information, entertainment and stimulus, the rest of the world may never know.
September 11, 2003